


Times They Met, Until They Didn't

by acourtofbooksandtea



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Major character death - Freeform, also, but no like seriously, no beta we die like men, that's the whole point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:01:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acourtofbooksandtea/pseuds/acourtofbooksandtea
Summary: A story of times Hazel en Aiden meet, until they didn't.Or:a friend of mine asked for a fic in which he died and I decided to let him suffer before I killed himI'm kind of a horrible person like that.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 2





	Times They Met, Until They Didn't

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Meetings Through Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686443) by [Takan_Morfin_Riddle_Lestrange](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takan_Morfin_Riddle_Lestrange/pseuds/Takan_Morfin_Riddle_Lestrange). 



> Okay so, a while ago a friend of my asked for a fic in which he died. And I was like, okay? But then life happened, and I just  
> ignored it for a while.
> 
> And then I read the lovely fic Meetings Through Time by Takan_Morfin_Riddle_Lestrange.
> 
> I adored it.
> 
> And decided to give my friend a life of suffering before I killed him off. I'm kind of a petty person like that.
> 
> Enjoy, I guess.

They had met once before. She remembered, while everybody else forgot. She saw, where others looked. She listened while others did not. She observed, and remembered, and recognised. She knew.

He did not.

* * *

The first time they meet, he was too young. The memories are disappearing over the years, pushed aside for other, shinier ones. Ones with morealwaysmore things happening.

The first time they meet, it was greensoveryverygreen spring. Small sprouts of grass peaking through the earth, flowers tentatively showing lighthopepale colours. A boy sitting on a wall. A tiny girl with a dog. A glance.

The first time they meet, nothing happens.

* * *

The second time they meet, both have changed. He was older, warier of the world around him. Aware that not everybody was what they said, nor necessarily nice. She appeared older as well, and just a bit more faded.

The second time they meet, it was a dryhotyellow summer. Dried, light brown grass. Dust coating everything. While the sun beat down mercilessly on those below. The park with one set of swings. A barefooted boy in a fadedyellow dinosaur shirt. A girl in a paleyellow dress. A shinyyellow stone around her neck. An old, gray dog by her side.

The second time they meet, he learns her name. Hazel. But before he can reply, or offer a name of his own, she is gone.

* * *

The third time they meet, they are older. He is a student in medical school, she is pursuing her degree in Fine Arts.

The third time they meet, he remembers. He thinks of a yellow stone, and a name.

Hazel.

The third time they meet, it is a palebluecrisp morning. He is crossing the street as he sees her running, a new dog by her side. A golden retriever, with a brightboneblue leash. He raises a hand in greeting, and receives a nod of recognition in return. She does not stop, but he thinks her step is lighter as she continues on her way.

The third time they meet, he vows to remember her smile.

* * *

The fourth time they meet, he almost does not recognize her. 

The fourth time they meet, almost no time has passed. It is maybe a month after their last meeting, but he still has a hard time identifying her as Hazel. Instead of a lonelytoosmall little girl, or a happy barelyinhertwenties running with a dog, she is confident and cheerful (she looks like a woman). That should not make this big of a difference, but it does.

It doesn’t help that he’s stressing for his finals and procrastinated all his essays to today.

He ~~rushes~~ (briskly walks, thank you very much) into his favourite coffeeshop, fervently hoping that his favourite table is not yet taken. He let out a sigh of relief as he finds the booth with the round table in the back free. He quickly drops his bag on the table, claiming it as his own, before he stands to wait in the line to order his drink. After no time at all he is standing before the pretty barista with her darkchocolatebrown hair up in a messy bun.

‘Hello, how can I help you today?’

As he orders his usual (green tea with a blueberry scone) he watches her bustle about. But it is only when she hands him his order and he meets those darksparklinggreen eyes that he recognizes her.

But before he can think of something to say to her, she smiles and winks at him, before turning to another customer.

Later, she stops by his table to ask if he wants another drink. As he orders another green tea, he cannot get her smile out of his head.

The fourth time they meet, he offers a name of his own.

* * *

The fifth time they meet, he loses his heart to her. As was the Archeron family’s Blessing or Curse (depending on who you asked), and like all his ancestors before him, he had Fallen in love in an instant.

He was attending a fundraiser-annex-ball (perks of having connections) when he spotted her. She wore a darksosogreen gown that clung perfectly to her body. A necklace with an emerald stone, one that matched her eyes, adorned her neck. From the arms of some gentleman or the other, she met his eyes from across the dancefloor and smiled.

After the dance had finished, and she’d politely thanked her escort, she made her way to where he stood. Dropping into a curtsey, she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

‘Will you have this dance with me?’

He felt it then. That he could lose his heart to her, if he wasn’t careful.

But he agreed to have this dance with her. And the next. And the one after that.

They spent the entire evening in each others arms, getting to know each other. They talked about everything and nothing: his work in the local hospital, her latest painting, the name of her dog (Nora), siblings, hopeswishesexpectations….

It was during the last waltz of the evening that he Fell.

Aiden had waited for the person he could call his equal since he had been old enough to hear the stories from his parents. And though he had known nothing of what they would be like, he had come to love them. Because they would be his perfect match, his destined soul-mate, and he desperately wanted them.

Now she had a name and a face, not an abstract concept or a distant daydream. She was within his reach, in his arms even. Hazel was better than he had dared to imagine. He didn’t want to let her go, so—

Aiden Fell.

* * *

The fifth time they meet, he wears a starkwhitetooclean coat. Hers is shredded, with brown smears and darkgreen leaves, a mockery of the dress she wore when he saw her last. One twig. And there’s the darkredwarm blood. The almost dry stains are a reddish brown, but a lot of it is brightrubyfresh blood.

Too much.

The fifth time they meet, he can only watch as the fight drains from her body, simultaneous with the blood. He watches the life leave her oncesparklingwarm eyes. In death, they are ghosts.

The fifth time they meet, she dies. And he is left behind, chest full of unspoken wordsjokesfeelingslovedeclarationstalessentiments.

* * *

At first, he mourns what was, and what could have been. He is a palesosopale ghost of his former self.

Once Fallen is always on the ground.

But he goes on with life. What else is there to do? Time does not stop for Fallen Archeron with a shredded heart or shattered dreams.

It never does.

* * *

As the years pass, he learns to laugh again. He becomes a doctor, and saves many lives. Always thinking of the one he couldn’t save.

And if he disappears every year, for a week straight, well, that’s no-one’s business but his own, is it not?

His boss doesn’t know the reason – she’d never managed to get anything out of him – but she does know he disappears for roughly a week every year.

When he returns, she takes one look at him and once again acquiesces his demand for privacy.

* * *

As the years pass, he learns to live again. But he never forgets her. How can he, when he sees her everywhere he goes?

He sees her in the little girl buying a ice cream from the vendor, the woman jogging down the street with a dog, the girl nodding along to the beat of her music.

She is standing before the chocolate when he does his groceries, drooling over the new covers as he picks up a book in the bookstore or enjoying the sunset as he walks down the street.

Eventually, she starts following him. At the beginning, she is just a paletoopale ghost he can see from the corners of his eyes, disappearing when he tries to focus. Eventually, she becomes more clearer, even as her edges remained blurred. Her appearance changes: sometimes she is the little girl again, wearing a paleyellow dress with sunflowers. Sometimes she is wearing her barista apron, her hair up in a messy bun. And sometimes, she wears her favourite jacket, complete with mud and bloodstains.

Those days are the bad days.

At first, the bad days were few and far in between. He was always badly shaken afterwards, but he managed.

Now, they happened more often than not. He starts taking pills. They work, but that also means he doesn’t see her anymore.

He stops with the pills.

She appears again, exactly the same as last time. But now, she starts communicating with him. Where she ignored him before (she could not see him), now she waves and smiles. And talks (but he does not hear her).

She accompanies him to his work, points at things he needs or forgets and reminds him to look up at the sky and _wish_.

Still, he does not hear her.

One day, he is driving his car down the highway. She _screams_ at him to stop –

but he does not listen.

She can only watch as he drives over the edge of the cliff, and the car tumbles down into the deepsounforgivingdeep ravine, with the fast-flowing river below.

When he closes his eyes for the last time, he can’t feel it in himself to feel scared or sad. For the first time since he lost her, he feels at peace. 

When his time comes, he is not afraid.

When his time comes, he closes his eyes with her image seared in his brain.

* * *

“I _told_ you not to drive so recklessly!”


End file.
